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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535993">Little Red Hoodie, a Hungry Bae and a Lonely Warlock</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_craion/pseuds/yellow_craion'>yellow_craion</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shadowhunters (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ableism, Ableist Language, Abuse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic Raphael Santiago, Asexual Raphael Santiago, Autistic Raphael Santiago, Bathing/Washing, Blood, Blood Drinking, Boundaries, Broken Bones, Burns, Camille Belcourt Being An Asshole, Comfort, Crying, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, Families of Choice, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hair Brushing, Heavy Angst, Homelessness, Hurt Raphael, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insecure Magnus Bane, Magic Revealed, Manipulative Camille Belcourt, Mundane Simon Lewis, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Parental Magnus Bane, Past Magnus Bane/Camille Belcourt, Physical Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Magnus Bane, Protective Simon Lewis, Raphael Santiago Has Feelings, Showers, Supportive Magnus Bane, Touch-Starved, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:14:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_craion/pseuds/yellow_craion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The city is a dark and lonely place, crowded with people who don’t care. When it isn’t dark, and sunshine slithers through the cracks, it becomes dangerous for a creature like him. Darkness is cold, but light is unforgiving, and it burns. Oh, how it burns!</p><p>Yet the vampire has found a little ray of sunshine that warms him up inside and gives him shelter. He met a stranger who cares. For him. A stranger that brought a sad wizard to heal him, and who smiles often, and no matter how long the vampire waits, the smile doesn’t morph into anything else. It’s there to stay.</p><p>He hopes.</p><p>Hope is like a blanket. It comes with warm hugs and soft touches, growing until it becomes reality, or cracks into pieces.</p><p>It’s a dangerous thing to hope, when one is running from monsters.</p><p> </p><p>---------<br/>chapter one is fill for bad things happen bingo: touch starved<br/>chapter two is fill for bad things happen bingo: lifted by the neck</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Magnus Bane &amp; Raphael Santiago, Simon Lewis &amp; Raphael Santiago</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this turned out much less fairy tale-y than initially planned, but i'm keeping the title</p><p>raphael is autistic here and semi verbal (and im a horrible human for putting him through hell)</p><p>here are all the WARNINGS I could think of (in case you're still unsure, go to the end notes for spoilers)</p><p>implied / referenced vomiting, prostitution and rape; also mentioned asmodeus A+ parenting in the past and possibly some references of gaslighting; actual sexual abuse / harrassment / groping; vampire suntan described in some detail; self-cannibalism (sounds worse than it is? he just attempts to drink his own blood); ableism and some internalized ableism; verbal and emotional abuse; physical abuse / violence; just camille being her slimy manipulative self; lots of crying and emotional pain; self doubt, self hatred, obscenely low self esteem (but nobody is suicidal); read at your own risk if you have fuzzy feelings about sewer rats</p><p>i also wanna thank tothetrashwhereibelong for all the cheering and support and screaming - i know it wouldn't go anywhere if it weren't for you &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Simon turns a corner, sharply, barreling down the street and tripping over his own feet in his haste to put distance between himself and the two men chasing him. He’s almost home. Almost there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a scary moment he wonders if leading them to his home isn’t a mistake; won’t they come back later to harass him?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But there’s no other option. There’s barely any traffic to begin with, and it’s not like he has time to wait for a cab to arrive. His legs can hardly carry him much further at this pace. He can only run home and hope for the best.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The orange glow of the street lamps makes his shadow multiply on the sidewalk, and he dares to look behind, to make sure all the shadows are his; hoping he lost them, that if this is just a random mugging, they won’t bother to chase him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not that lucky. The two guys are still there, looking as angry as ever. Yelling, but the words are drowned out by the pounding in his ears. He just hears noise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon gulps. He winces, suddenly all too aware of his dry mouth, and the burning throat and lungs after inhaling all that cold air while running. Good thing he put on that red hoodie earlier. He’s exhausted, but still bolts…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then freezes at the ear piercing scream from behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He should just keep going, but despite his better judgement, he stays in place. With his heart ready to jump out of his chest, he slowly turns to look back. His assailants are both on the ground by then, a third figure on top of one of them, while the other is crawling away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon is staring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What just happened?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wobbly legs carry him closer just in time to see the figure stand, though it seems his rescuer is having trouble fighting gravity and stumbles back before collapsing to the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The street lamps don’t offer much detail, not from the angle the other man is positioned, so Simon inches nearer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are… are you ok?” Simon asks from a few steps away, still not certain he’s completely safe yet, but concerned for the stranger. The man is kneeling with legs spread wide, gasping loudly through his open mouth, chin dripping with blood and he’s eyeing Simon like he wants to run himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should go,” the stranger rasps out, before wiping his chin on the back of his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon really should listen, but it feels wrong to just leave someone who helped him. So he shakes his head and asks: “I could… do you need a hospital?” He tries to be firm, but he’s shaking all over. His voice is wavering and the hoodie offers little protection against the cold wind and his own nerves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No hospitals! I’m fine,” his rescuer insists, but his harsh tone is belittled by the fact he looks ready to pass out. He keeps watching Simon through half-lidded eyes, like it’s a challenge to stay awake, but too much of a risk to close them completely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sight of him, bloodied, kneeling on cold concrete and failing to get up is pulling on Simon’s heartstrings. So he swallows his reservations and squats next to the other man, using that opportunity for a closer look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Simon. Thanks for saving my ass,” he forces out a shaky smile and glances at the two unconscious bodies. Very briefly. It’s not them he’s focusing on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t need to thank me,” the man shrugs. He keeps watching Simon warily, and attempts to stand up once more. He mutters something irritably under his breath, and Simon jumps up to help him stand, reaching for his forearm, but as soon as the contact is made, the stranger pulls away. Yet he still has trouble staying upright on his own, and before Simon realizes what’s happening, the man hits the ground again with a loud grunt, echoed by Simon’s surprised yelp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He curses in a high pitched tone and curls up on his side, shutting his eyes tight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon has to wonder how this person managed to overpower two thugs. “Okay,” he thinks quickly. “No hospitals, how about I order you a cab? Or do you live nearby?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine. Just,” the man straightens and looks to the two unconscious bodies. “Just go home, I’ll manage. Go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How will you manage, huh? You can’t even stand on your own,” Simon throws his arms up. How can this person be so uncooperative? “Are you injured?? I didn’t smell any alcohol...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a drunkard,” he mutters irritably.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael resents that accusation. And he’s not injured either, at least not technically. He keeps glancing at the two bodies - closer and closer to becoming corpses - with regret.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were bad people, they were screaming obscenities at the other man, threats too. He could tell it wouldn’t end pretty for the guy. So he did a good thing. He saved someone. It wouldn’t be… horrible… if he now took the opportunity to feed himself, would it? They were bad people.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he’s so damn hungry! Two bodies full of fresh human blood lay right there - not rats that make him gag on the stench or any other desperate solution he had to devise in the past month - and what good are they, with a stupid human standing over him! Witnessing him and his monstrosity. No! He can’t eat them with someone watching. His own judgement is bad enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glares up at… Steve? Solomon? Simon! How to shut him up without violence? He didn’t save him just to kill him himself, for fucks sake, no matter how much he wishes the incessant nagging would stop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” he groans eventually. “Will you stop it, if I go with you?” He sneers at Simon’s shocked gasp. “What? No longer feeling charitable? Very well, go on and leave me be,” he mutters angrily while shaking his head, hoping his tactic will sufficiently scare the guy away. It’s one thing to be grateful but at this point this gratitude is more of an annoyance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, I um… I don’t,” he frowns down at his shoes, thinking hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, yeah… just say it and go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t mind sleeping on a sofa, yeah, you could come with me.” Simon shrugs, twisting the hem of his hoodie between his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I just have one question,” he adds quietly, almost shyly. “Before we go up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He raises an eyebrow. Just one?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Raphael,” he huffs, resigned now that his genius plan backfired. It’s fine though. It will be fine, he will wait for the guy to fall asleep and then he’ll sneak out. No harm done, no risk to the little do-gooder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hopes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon really hopes inviting a stranger into his home isn’t a mistake. He tries not to dwell on that when he sticks a hand out to help the man up. This time Raphael allows him to pull him upright, and it hits Simon just how cold he is to the touch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At first he leans on Simon’s arm, but after several steps he disentangles and instead wobbles alongside him into the building, but as soon as he hits the elevator button, he hears a groan and by the time he looks at him, Raphael is sliding down a wall onto the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Woah! Woah!” Simon jumps to him but the man appears unconscious. “Shit,” he curses and as on cue, the elevator beeps and its door opens. He runs inside and rams the button to keep the door open and attempts to pick the stranger up under his arms and drag him inside. There’s nothing graceful about his maneuvers and he almost falls on his own ass twice and has the door almost close on him as he’s stepping inside but finally, among the groaning and cursing he has them both in the elevator and riding up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t let anyone see me like this</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He props Raphael against the wall and digs in his pocket for his keys, just so he doesn’t waste time at the door, then contemplates how to get them through the door with the least amount of hassle. Dragging the man like he did isn’t exactly comfortable and really there’s no need to be wiping the floor with him like that, but could he carry him fully?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He does look thin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the keys firmly in one hand - wouldn’t it be just his luck to drop them - he sneaks his arms under the prone figure and as soon as the elevator pings, he picks him up and walks through the open door into the corridor. He was right, the man barely weights a thing, but just to be safe he balances them so that what body weight there is, it’s resting on Simon’s chest more so than his arms. He is, after all, not really used to carrying anybody around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has a flash of panic, when Raphael lets out a sigh, when his face rests on his chest, and worries the man will scream his head off for taking liberties and treating him like this, but the man doesn’t actually wake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little fumble and a few curses later, Simon kicks the door open wide, but with no hand free, forgoes greeting the mezuzah and heads straight to the sofa. Or, at least, that’s what he means to do, but however he turns, he cannot fit the man in his arms through the threshold. It makes no sense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come... on... in,” he grunts, feeling his arms tire and suddenly it’s like the invisible wall has disappeared. He staggers in, kicks the door shut and quickly deposits his house guest on the sofa, panting as he does it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once his breathing calms down a notch, he grabs his fleece blanket off the chair and bundles the man in it, careful not to wake him. Satisfied with the cozy picture that Raphael makes, he goes to close the curtains and meanders to the fridge for a quick snack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael starts awake. He looks down, frowning at the blue fleece blanket tucked over him, then up to realize this must be somebody’s home. He rubs his arms with his hands, greedily soaking up the warmth of the place, while thinking how he got inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turns around at the soft noises coming from behind him, and there is the do-gooder himself puttering around the fridge in the kitchenette.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blearily the vampire wonders what he said yesterday that his name was... </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh God!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael’s eyes go wide and he looks around properly, panic spiking up inside him when he notices the windows are still covered but the wayward sun beams are creeping up the floor in his direction, and the human is up already. As absurd as the notion is to him after surviving on the streets for so long and hiding in unmentionable spots - he overslept!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He curses under his breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t supposed to do that, dammit! He was supposed to go, while it was still dark and see to the dead bodies (that would no longer be tasty but beggars can’t be choosers and all that) with time enough to spare for finding a sewer to hole up in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he staggers up, but in his hurry all it gets him is a dizzy spell and his feet tangled in the blanket and he bumps against the sofa before landing back down on his ass. Hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, good! You’re awake,” the man proclaims happily from the kitchen area.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What is he supposed to do now?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His breathing is growing faster and shorter, and he can tell the panic is setting in. He looks down at his thin hands, and they’re shaking again. He clenches his teeth trying to calm down, but the old tactic of trying to focus on what he can sense is really biting him in the ass now, because he can smell frying onions, yes, a good scent but the dangerous thing that is pulling his attention is the steady heart beat of the other man. Simon, he suddenly remembers the name.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, no, no, no,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Raphael squeezes his eyes shut and instead focuses on the softness of the blanket on his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, uh,” he frowns. “Thanks for letting me crash, but I should, uh, I really should go,” Raphael wishes he could sound more confident. He hates how weak he sounds to his own ears, but what else could a half-starved vampire be?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should be the one thanking you,” the man counters. “Won’t you stay for breakfast? Hate to let you go on an empty stomach.” Simon pulls out two plates from a cupboard. “Sorry I got ahead of myself and started making these before I asked you if eggs are okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael’s not sure what to answer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, eggs would be lovely if I was still on a solid diet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nah, none for me, I’ll just drain a sewer rat, thanks</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, he misses proper food!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have to,” he says softly, even as he can’t help a tiny smile of appreciation for the gesture. When was the last time anyone cooked for him? Ah, yes… better not think about that too hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the least I could do,” Simon waves him off while getting the bread out and scooping portions out onto the plates. He then puts the pan away and makes a trip with the plates to set them on the table next to the sofa, the bag with bread tucked under his arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think you said that about me staying over,” he mutters, and eyes the eggs curiously, even if he can’t taste them. Well… maybe a small bite? Just so... </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scowls at the memory of the last time he tried to eat solid food after becoming… this. He practically puked out his insides; definitely felt that way at the time. He’s not up for that anytime soon, and he’s afraid he might just die for good this time around if he did that, considering how weak he still feels.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon laughs, unaware of his internal struggle. “Maybe,” he shrugs, “but here you go anyway. Breakfast. Hope it’s edible. Oh!” He turns just as he’s about to sit down and strides to the window, and tugs the curtains open before Raphael can stop him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He screams. He scrambles to safety but he’s not as fast as he should be and the damage is done by the time he makes it to the shadowed corridor with more doors in it. He’s gasping for unnecessary breath, tears welling up in his eyes as he struggles to muffle the pitiful noises coming from his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened?!” Simon is suddenly standing over him, looking alarmed but his presence barely registers with Raphael.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It burns. It fucking burns! When he dares to look he can see the smoke still coming from his shoulder and side and what he can see of his skin is red and angry, bits of it going black already and it’s just disgusting. He shuts his eyes against the sight and the pain and digs the fingertips of his other hand into his neck until it stings but it offers no distraction from the burns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could barely walk upright before. On his nonexistent diet this is never going to heal properly and God, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite his best efforts, he can’t smother a sob.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he finally notices the human next to himself he scoots backwards as far as he can, away from him. He’s past caring about what a pitiful picture he’s making. “Please,” he can taste the tears and wipes his face roughly with the sleeve of his other arm, “don’t come closer!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But, how,” the man is staring at him, utterly confused but even in his state, Raphael can see something behind the alarm - something he hasn’t seen directed at himself in a long while.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Concern.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But what happened? You were fine, I mean, maybe not </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a light breeze might topple you over, but now it’s like you’ve been set on fire!” Simon’s voice keeps going up the longer he talks, showing just how agitated he’s getting by the situation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Honestly, the vampire can’t blame him. “Close the curtains,” he mutters through clenched teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You opened the curtains. That’s what happened. The sun,” he tries to keep his voice steady, breathing through the pain, but he’s in no mood to be giving patient lectures. He’s glad his arm’s no longer smoking, at least.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks towards the living room, where the window is, where the man reluctantly goes. His face is twisted in anguish and more tears are silently falling; is this how he’s going to die? For good this time? He hates this new existence, it’s nothing but cold and blood and dark, but as nasty as it is, he can’t stop clinging to whatever he has left of life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still needs blood to heal though. And it’s not like they’re donating blood bags to goodwill.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a sick feeling in his stomach, Raphael bares his fangs and bites his uninjured wrist, wincing at the brief sting of it and then at the taste of his own blood. He has no idea if this will do anything good, it’s his own measly blood he’s drinking, for God’s sake, but he’s out of options and he doesn’t know what to do to make the pain go away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck are you doing?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael startles and looks up guiltily at the horrified human. He takes a deep breath and licks his lips. There’s really nothing to be done about the bite mark but he hopes it will heal on its own soon; it really should too, because being undead he has no pulse and he had to suck hard to get anything out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon kneels in front of him, looking furious. “What the hell? Why would you bite yourself?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again, he has no idea what he’s supposed to answer to that. So instead, he pulls his arms close to his chest and just watches the human. Waiting. He’s going to figure it out any moment, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s about to figure out what he actually invited into his home, he’s about to be disgusted by the monster that’s been staining his perfectly good sofa, and pour all that out, because that’s what people do. Or will he just be scared?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael tenses, which only makes his tired, abused muscles hurt more, but he can’t make himself relax.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon’s frown only grows stronger. He tilts his head and blinks, then finally he mutters: “You can’t be…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael holds his breath, wide eyed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had to invite you in… sunshine.... and… but that’s…” Simon’s counting off and it must be right there at the tip of his tongue - the realization. “You’re a vamp!” He proclaims, then...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There it is. He can hear it; the sudden but absolutely expected spike in the heart beat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Between outrage and fear, the latter is the more likely bet; they barely met but Simon doesn’t seem like an angry type, not really. "You're afraid now,” the vampire comments, trying to get a reaction, a confirmation, anything because the human is just staring at him without a word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he snorts. The human plops down onto his ass in front of Raphael and starts shaking with laughter, which is just unsettling to watch for Raphael. At first he thinks he’s crying, but no, it is definitely laughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire frowns. “Why are you laughing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he says, between bursts of dying laughter, “I just, uh, a vampire! Come on,” he waves a hand in his direction. “How awesome is that? It’s like,” he seems to be calming down slowly, “like if you are real, what else is real?” Simon grins. “It’s amazing, seriously.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael thinks back to when he just got turned and lost </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything.</span>
  </em>
  <span> How he guzzled down the blood that was poured down his throat, when he had no control over anything, and what he’d done before he ran...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing about it was amazing; repulsive is what it was. And it’s not much better now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But how can he explain that?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should be scared of me, Simon,” he implores. Nothing good will come to the human from allowing his presence in his home. “I should… I should leave… thank you for, uh, letting me stay the night,” he pulls his legs under himself and raises slowly resting most of his weight on the wall, mindful of the burns on the right side. He breathes in and looks down at himself, willing his legs to stop shaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon looks unimpressed. "Where exactly are you going to go? You got set on fire from an opened curtain, what is gonna happen when you step outside, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael clenches his jaw, feeling the sting coming back to his eyes. No need for a reminder, thank you very much. He knows he has no place to go, he knows nobody wants him (even as a more sinister part of his mind reminds him that is not entirely true and there is someone, who probably wants him back very much…), he knows he will probably burn himself even worse sneaking around the shadows outside, but what else is he to do?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” he admits dejectedly, “but I wouldn’t be bothering you here, so that should count for something.” The vampire scowls at the floor, his face contorted in pain and sadness, thinking about things he’d rather purge from his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon sighs. “Come on,” the human says suddenly, with an outstretched arm, “need any help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire glares silently and takes all of three steps before Simon‘s hovering next to him, and in any other circumstances Raphael would’ve been offended but now he’s too busy keeping his legs moving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The curtains are closed again so he can venture out into the open space of the living room before he takes a turn to the front door. However when he tries to do that, there’s a gentle hand on his elbow, nudging him in the opposite direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The sofa’s this way,” the man says, when Raphael gives him a confused look, and keeps guiding him back to the spot with the discarded blanket and by now cold eggs. Why the vampire feels a pang of regret about the wasted breakfast in particular, out of all things this morning he has no idea, but he does. It feels wrong to let food go to waste, even if he himself could not eat it anymore. An apology is at the tip of his tongue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sniffs quietly and sinks down onto the cushion, but has to stay stiff due to burns on his shoulder and side. He frowns when Simon picks up the blanket and drapes it over his lap. He follows the human with his gaze as he slides the plates away and squats next to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really are a vampire, huh?” Simon is staring at him, with just a hint of a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nods mutely, unable to figure the man out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would, uh,” he raises his hand a bit, and asks earnestly: “would my blood help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire recoils with a yelp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s an instant reaction. In the back of his mind, Raphael is actually surprised he still had some strength left in him to move so fast. The coarse fabric rubbing on his burns hurts, yes, but the only thing he can do is scurry away, one hand in front of himself to keep the human and his stupid ideas away and the other digging into the cushion next to him, helping him balance himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did I say?” Simon looks alarmed. “You’re a vamp, so you drink blood. You were biting yourself earlier! So why are you acting like I’m offering you poison?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael shakes his head vehemently. “No! Don’t want your blood!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why not? I’m not sick or anything,” he insists.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look,” he leans forward a fraction, just enough to not irritate his burns anymore, but still watches Simon wearily. “You’re a nice guy. You haven’t kicked me out yet,” he looks away in shame for a second. “I don’t… I don’t get why, but you didn’t,” he frowns again. He’s saying it all wrong; it’s not because this human showed him kindness that he doesn’t want to drain him. Just the idea of draining anyone is distressing, even those dirt bags outside that he fully intended to drink from. But by sticking only to people who attack others Raphael hoped to somewhat mitigate the consequences of his existence. Not that it would make him feel any less of a monster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Raphael admits in a small voice: “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not asking you to kill me!” Simon spreads his arms out in exasperation, making the vampire shrink into himself. “I just mean a little. People donate blood all the time, it would be like that! Wouldn’t it help you heal those burns?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire gulps and scrunches up his face in a pained expression. “It would,” he whispers mournfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what’s the harm here?” Simon keeps pressing, but his tone is gentler now, the incredulity is almost completely gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael stares down at his lap, having no idea how to put it into words. Maybe if he wasn’t in so much pain, if he wasn’t so hungry, he could think of something better; instead he settles on a simple “I can’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he responds and walks away, picking up the plates with a disgusted nose twitch and dropping them on the counter, then making a beeline for the other side of the room where he picks up his laptop before joining the vampire casually on the sofa, propping his legs up on the table and booting the device up. He looks perfectly relaxed, and inexplicably, so is his pulse from what Raphael can hear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gives the human a confused look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” Simon wonders out loud while typing quickly, “where do vampires usually get their blood, if not from random dog walkers?” He glances at Raphael briefly with a raised eyebrow. “‘Cause I’m thinking the blood bank is gonna have questions if I ask to buy some from them,” he chuckles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blood,” Simon explains. “You need it. Where do I go to buy some, do you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael blinks up at him, lost. Why would he want to buy blood for him? He already took him into his home and didn’t throw him to the curb after finding out what he is. And he wants to feed him? It doesn’t add up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon puts the laptop away and turns a bit to face him better. “Which part?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All of it,” the vampire shakes his head hopelessly. “Why are you kind to me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon’s eyes widen at that. “Why shouldn’t I be? Looks like you could use someone in your corner,” he shrugs like what he’s saying is obvious, “why not me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s too much for Raphael and before he can contain it, he sobs again, hating how he’s behaving like a little child.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Simon reaches out to him but stops, unsure. “Shh, it’s gonna be fine,” he squeezes Raphael’s hand softly, while the vampire gasps in lungfuls of air, wondering what is happening with him to make him so emotional.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll figure it out,” the human insists, and Raphael wants to believe him so badly. He bows down, trying to hide his face, when Simon’s hand ghosts over his unhurt shoulder and he finds himself guided slowly down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is a flash of panic initially, but when his head rests on Simon’s lap, facing away, he blinks the wetness out of his eyes. Unsure what to make of it, he remains frozen in place, scared to breathe and waiting… he doesn’t know for what.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon’s warm hand moves away and just when the vampire is about to wonder, it brushes along his scalp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He holds perfectly still, paying close attention to Simon’s fingertips as they trace just shy of his temple and bury into his hair again, and again, until he thinks the repetitive gesture isn’t going to stop anytime soon and he allows himself to exhale quietly. He listens in carefully, to the calm breathing and heartbeat of the human and to the soft clicks of the keyboard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He folds his hands against his chest, careful to stay as still as possible and not disturb the peace, and resigns himself to never understand this preposterous man. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A little over an hour later, Simon has something of an action plan figured out and some places noted down to check in the city.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Raphael stops him, when he sees him heading for the door with his backpack. “You didn’t have breakfast,” he says shyly, “you should eat something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon opens his mouth to respond but shuts it abruptly, changing his mind. He glances towards the kitchen, then back at the vampire. “It wouldn’t be, uh, weird for you?” He asks eventually.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire looks away. “You should still eat something,” he insists.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon sighs. He really wants to get going but for a vampire that refuses to drink from his vein, Raphael does have a point. “I’ll grab a burger or something on my way,” he decides with a shrug, putting the backpack on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he actually means that, even if his house guest has no way to know that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ignore any door bells or anyone at the door,” he instructs. “I got my keys.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Raphael says softly. He frowns, </span>
  <em>
    <span>is the human harassed by someone, or? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He doesn’t actually ask though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks so dejected, Simon wants to hug him and never let go, but instead takes a deep breath and walks out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody can live off hugs alone, sooner you leave, the sooner he’s better</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out on the streets he’s surprised to find a small group of people gathered around the yellow police tape, just where he met Raphael last night. He frowns, trying to see past the crowd.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Simon!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turns when he hears his name called out and there is Luke, running up to him from his car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I heard they found bodies here this morning and was worried, are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bodies?” He looks back at the crowd, thinking about last night. “As in, people died? Here on the sidewalk?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Luke huffs. “Did you see or hear anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hesitates. The man has been a family friend for as long as Simon can remember, so it’s understandable he’d worry, but the question sounds too much like part of an investigation to be pure concern. “I’m not sure,” he thinks about those men chasing him - it has to be them. Should he admit they were after him? He wants to, but he’s scared where that admission could lead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have no witnesses, so I’m not surprised. But be careful, whoever did this is dangerous!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon nods mutely, and walks away, thinking about the man on his couch. Dangerous. He furrows his brows, trying to picture that, but the word doesn’t fit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He fishes out the paper with all the addresses he noted, and heads to the closest one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are all magic shops, some psychic parlour places… really, who knew there are so many of those? He’s always assumed they were a scam, with ads like </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Have you encountered a supernatural being, did you experience a haunting? Come and we will help!’</span>
  </em>
  <span> they had to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except now Simon actually met a vampire, he wonders what else is there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So it’s with a good dose of excitement and optimism that he goes into the first shop on his list. That optimism wanes, when the lady scoffs at him, and chastises him for mocking the supernatural; because demonic possession, ghosts and talking to the dead are all valid alright, it’s the vampire thing that is all fiction. How dare he joke about that. But perhaps he would like an amulet to ward off the aliens?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With less enthusiasm he tries another place, and there, to his horror, he is shown what they called a vampire section that is part Halloween costumes, part erotica.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tells himself it’s early yet, and braves another item on his list.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The small magic shop with a sign of a stylized black cat with a full moon as backdrop is tucked away between a bookstore and a cafe, and is decidedly less ostentatious than its magic-related competitors Simon visited up till this point. It’s easy to miss if one is not looking for it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Discouraged by the previous places, he enters this one with more scepticism than open hope.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Little bell overhanging the shop front entrance chimes, notifying Magnus, while he’s in the back. It’s been a slow day, and he spent most of it reading, and sorting the latest delivery of trinkets for display.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be there in just a second,” he calls out, carefully meandering around the desk, curious to see what kind of customer this is, if in fact a customer at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are three types of visitors to his shop. The people that mostly browse and maybe buy a little trinket as a gift but overall don’t necessarily believe in anything they’re buying, then there are paranormal enthusiasts that usually book him for tarot readings which he indulges on Tuesdays and Fridays, but those usually spout the popular fiction about ghosts possessions and crystals. The last kind, and by far majority of his clientele, are actual downworlders like himself - other warlocks, and vampires for the most part, though it’s unlikely he’d find a vampire out and about this time of day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, one of those</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks when he sees the human browsing his display of jewelry and crystals (he does make an effort not to stand out from his competition, at least at first glance).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Welcome,” Magnus calls out with a tired smile, putting on the harmless shopkeeper persona he’s perfected over the years. “Anything in particular I can help you find?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let me guess, you’re looking for a zodiac sign pendant… or maybe yin yang bracelets for you and your partner;</span>
  </em>
  <span> he likes to amuse himself when he’s dealing with ordinary clients. It’s not mean-spirited, not unless people start asking him about Chinese </span>
  <em>
    <span>letters</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that’s when his patience runs thin and he has to stop himself from putting a curse on them (he doesn’t always stop himself though).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh, sort of,” the man seems startled and laughs nervously as he walks up to the counter, eyes flicking all over the place. “Do you, uh, know anything about vampires?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus keeps his face perfectly stoic and patient with just a hint of curiosity to show he’s paying attention. “How do you mean?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh! Please, don’t ask for porn</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What if I told you I met a vampire? Last night,” he’s giving Magnus a calculating look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Interesting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still not sure what to make of the stranger, he prods: “how do you know it was a vampire?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t enjoy it when I opened the window to let sunshine in,” the man deadpans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he blinks, surprised. Is the vampire alright? How come the vampire was inside? Is this man in the habit of inviting strangers into his home? The questions are piling up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You actually believe me?” The man gives him a look, part dubious and part hopeful; and Magnus isn’t sure he should continue to play it safe. There could be an actual vampire that needs help out there?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Magnus agrees tentatively. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stranger relaxes somewhat, before going on a breathless speech:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He saved my life yesterday,” he looks down, sadly, “but he’s in a bad shape, and then he got burned by sunlight because I had no idea vampires are real, you know? And I don’t have blood! I mean, I do, like, inside me,” he chuckles, then opens his arms out in a helpless motion “but he won’t drink it, I don’t know why. So we need some other solution, but I don’t know where to get blood! So I started googling and your place popped up,” he purses his lips. “Can you help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The place is quiet without Simon, eerily so. When the vampire attempts to stretch his legs out, his knee bumps against the table and the sound of objects rattling on top is so jarring in the stillness, it makes Raphael wince. He’s alone, there’s nobody there to disturb and yet he stays put, barely breathing until the echo of the sound isn’t ringing in his ears anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wonders how long it will take for the human to be back. There’s no guarantee Simon will be successful, of course, but Raphael finds he will be pleased to see him no matter if he brings blood with him or not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps he’s being naive. After all, it was Simon who caused his side to be burned by sunlight, but he knows it wasn’t intentional. Few people expect to host a vampire in their space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And even if Simon burned him on purpose - so what? The care and warmth he’s got from the human far outweigh the pain. No, he’d never think to hold that against him. Simon doesn’t owe him anything, quite the opposite. He feels guilty, in a way, because he shouldn’t just wait for the man to take care of him; regardless of any promises he’s made.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s funny, actually - in a cruel, frustrating and absolutely not funny at all, way - how Raphael finds himself the piñata at life’s endless party, once again. The universe put him again at somebody’s mercy. He’s weak and in too much pain to rage against that reality. Instead, he takes immense comfort that so far, this person is different. Kind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon let him in, and trusted to leave him alone in his home even after finding out what Raphael is. He comforted him when the vampire was breaking down in tears and let him rest his head on the human’s lap, petting his hair. It felt so immeasurably gratifying to have someone touch him so, in a way that didn’t demand, didn’t hurt, but made him feel safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire picks up the discarded blanket, hugs it close to his chest, and buries his face in it, breathing in the strong scent of the human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this point, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to rely on Simon. What does he have left to lose by trusting the man?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael starts when he hears people on the other side of the door. Quietly he breathes in and is relieved when he recognizes Simon’s scent. It’s the stranger with him that’s worrying the vampire; the air around him is almost electric.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s perched at the edge of the sofa, watching the door like a hawk in anticipation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment the stranger sees him, it’s as if the world melted away and he’s not paying any mind to what Simon is saying, he just rushes to Raphael’s side, eyes wide in shock. “Oh, look at you, don’t worry about a thing, we can sort you out in no time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s terrifying to be the center of attention of someone who </span>
  <em>
    <span>smells </span>
  </em>
  <span>powerful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His gaze roaming up and down the vampire’s body, from the same position where earlier Simon was squating by the sofa, it’s surreal, but the man doesn’t do anything but watch, taking in every little detail with unmasked horror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire shuts his eyes in shame.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Magnus Bane. What’s your name, snowflake?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Raphael,” he whispers hoarsely, looking up at the man again, hesitant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s a beautiful name,” he smiles but it’s fleeting, like an afterthought to the abomination he’s witnessing. “I’m Magnus. I expect you can smell I’m different, do you know what I am?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael glances at Simon, who shrugs, and shakes his head, seemingly just as lost as he is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m a warlock,” he says. “And I can heal you, if you let me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire frowns, looking down at himself. It sounds so tempting, to be healed, to no longer be in pain. Of course he’d let him...but the cautious part of Raphael reminds him he should know better, and not to jump at an offer like that too eagerly. He wants to ask the man why, why bother at all, but instead settles on a more pressing issue: “what is it gonna cost me?” He’s already staying on the man’s sofa, and now a warlock offers to help him, and he has nothing to give to either of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could believe that Simon was actually a good Samaritan and helping him out of the goodness of that stupid heart of his; it still makes the vampire cringe to just use him without giving something back, but to meet two people like that in the span of one week? No, the warlock clearly knows what he’s doing, he’s going to ask for something - if not money then something else and it scares Raphael to think what that something could be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my sweet boy,” Magnus reaches out and hesitates before touching his face. The vampire doesn’t blame him, he must make a repulsive sight, now with those burns on top of everything else.“It doesn’t have to cost anything,” he shakes his head but when he sees Raphael’s dubious expression he offers: “How about you indulge me later and let me get to know you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not too repulsive, then.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael’s been on the streets long enough to see - to meet himself in fact - a few of those people; offering a roof over his head for a night in exchange for company in bed. Some are open and vulgar about it, but some, like this warlock, are coy, as if pretending it’s not what they’re doing is not going to offend anyone’s fragile sensibilities.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if Raphael doesn’t understand the word play.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Magnus asks finally and the vampire wants to cry again because everything is!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, uh,” he hesitates. “I’m not… I mean,” what </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>he mean?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t know what to say, stuck between a hard ‘pass’ and a very, very resigned ‘okay’. A chance like this may not come again, and he has to be smart about it, but it’s hard to be smart when his stomach is hollow and his body is screaming and his head is dizzy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Can he even say no at this point? It’s not as if he has anything else worthwhile to bargain with, and he’s so damn tired of being hungry and in pain. If he refused, Simon would probably offer to pay in his place, stupid do-gooder that he is, and why should the human be hurt by Raphael’s own mess? Financially or otherwise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It will probably be okay. People move on from that, don’t they? He’ll ask for a shower later, and he’ll be fine. Maybe hurt in other places but... he promptly shoves that thought away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he chokes out. He’ll be fine. Somehow. “Deal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warlock looks mildly surprised, but Raphael doesn’t really care. Was he supposed to respond some other way? Is he expected to… flirt? Oh God.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That is the problem now, isn’t it? Maybe because of the human standing next to them, maybe just because he likes the thrill of apprehension, the warlock hasn’t specified what exactly he wants from Raphael, and while for him it may be exciting, it is mind numbing for the vampire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s briefly distracted when  the warlock puts his arm between them and in the outstretched palm there’s suddenly a full bag of blood, just sitting there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael stares, glancing from the bag to Magnus, part amazed and part anxious to take it. As unfamiliar as it is to the vampire, he thinks he could make himself drink from it; he wouldn’t be hurting anybody then, would he?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should eat something, Simon said you haven’t had any in a while,” he smiles, and nods to the blood bag, waiting for the vampire to take it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gingerly, Raphael picks it up and looks it over, thinking how to actually use it. In the end he uses his fangs to rip off the edge and trying not to make a mess he squeezes it softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment the liquid touches his tongue he gags, but powers through it, with eyes shut tight so he doesn’t see his own disgust mirrored on their faces. He forces more gulps down, wincing but telling himself this is the best he can do; he needs it, if he wants to survive he needs it. So he swallows, again and again, a shudder running through him when he feels the pain recede just slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Another one?” Magnus offers readily, and Raphael blinks down at the empty bag in his hand. Before he can ask what to do with it, the warlock makes it vanish and in its place is a new full bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he mutters in shock. He looks at the human, still standing in the same spot, watching and wonders what he must be thinking. Then he remembers what he agreed to; why not take advantage of the offer and be done with it faster?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you heal me now?” Raphael asks tentatively, looking up at the warlock just as his expression softens. He must be eager to get on with it himself, the vampire realizes, dread pooling in his stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Magnus answers and his voice is silky smooth, like honey. He stands up gracefully and his hands hover over Raphael’s skin, just shy of touching - and isn’t he grateful for that - but somehow the vampire can still feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>seeping into him, making him warm like he barely remembers ever being. He didn’t expect the healing to be pleasant. With a gasp, he looks down and sees soft wisps of blue magic mending his mangled, burned skin and making him whole again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Incredible!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sentiment is his, but the voice isn’t and he looks up, as does Magnus, both taken by surprise by the human staring openly at the display of magic. The warlock ducks his head and only because Raphael is right below him, can he see the awkward smile he’s trying to hide.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The expression itself is almost sweet, or it would be, if the vampire wasn’t actively reminding himself not to get attached to kind strangers. Or should he? Would that make the encounter less disturbing if he allowed himself a positive feeling towards the warlock, even briefly? It’s a dangerous idea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes a moment to register that the pain is gone. It’s been slowly fading but only now does the tension leave him. For the first time in so long, when he takes stock of himself there </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. No pain, no itching, no discomfort and no hunger (well, maybe a little hunger). He lets out a relieved sigh and stares into space, clinging to that strange feeling. He commits it to memory, like all the other precious fleeting moments that come to him so rarely nowadays, and saves it for a rainy day. Someday soon, no doubt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you think we give Simon his home back, and finish this at my place?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael’s breath hitches at the cheerful suggestion, but he nods slowly, without looking up. His body stays in place, solid and heavier than it used to be, but he tells himself it’s better to go, better not have a spectator to what is bound to be a horrible night. Not the worst night, no, that already happened… back then, he remembers with a hard swallow, despite his best intentions to stay clear of those memories. But yes, he can’t imagine anything could top </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He startles out of his morose thoughts when the human steps up to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can come by anytime, okay? I won’t ignore the doorbell anymore,” Simon chuckles but it’s more awkward than cheerful, and it lodges a lump in Raphael’s throat. “So if you need a place when the sun is up, you have one,” the human says earnestly, “here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire sniffs quietly, his mouth open but no words coming that would be good enough to thank Simon for everything he’s done and now for this offer. To hear there’s a place, any place, that a blood feeding monster like him is welcome to, and it is a lived-in home at that - that’s more than he knows how to cope with after having nothing for months.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head hopelessly, then impulsively hugs Simon before he can think properly what he’s doing. He clings to the human, the body warmth seeping through the clothes breaking the dam and he has to bury his face in Simon’s shoulder just to stop himself from bawling like a little boy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to let go, not when there are arms wrapped around him, not when a palm lands gently on his neck and not when he hears Simon’s soft shushing noises; it shouldn’t make him feel so safe and yet it is the best feeling he’s had since he doesn’t know how long.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But let go he does, even as his fingers itch to grab at the human again. He turns to the warlock, who’s watching them with a contemplative frown, and braces for what’s to come.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crossing a portal is a new experience, one Raphael doesn’t care for, but also doesn’t outright hate either. In any other situation he would consider it useful. As it is, though, his mind is too preoccupied to worry about silly things like portals and magic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first thing that he notices about the new space is the faint woody scent, it’s subtle but somehow still eases some of his tension. The room is spacious and - thank God for small mercies - it looks like Magnus took them to a living room and not a bedroom. No sunshine comes in through the thick curtains, but there’s still plenty of light from lamps scattered around. All in all, the only word that comes to his mind to describe it is… eclectic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like more blood?” Magnus twirls around to face him as soon as the vampire steps through the portal, and taps a finger on his chin, the other arm wrapped around himself. His massive rings catch light and draw Raphael’s attention. “You may be healed, but I imagine you must still be hungry,” he adds, and the concern in his voice sounds so real, Raphael has to consciously remind himself it’s all just means to an end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t make it any less true; he is still hungry and he should do the smart thing and accept the blood, while he still can. So he nods, not looking at the warlock’s face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” he says, barely audible, because no matter the ugly circumstances, he’s going to be polite. Raphael watches the warlock mutter a soft “of course,” and guide them to the sofa and the small low table - a setup so similar to Simon’s but so different.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the warlock himself; as much as Raphael tries to avoid looking at his face, he’s mesmerised by his graceful, fluid motions. It’s almost like he’s liquid gliding around the space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sit and there’s blood, in a tall glass this time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I ask why you agreed to come with me? Didn’t seem like you wanted to say goodbye to that human yet, you could have stayed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For someone as observant, it’s strange to hear him ask that. Did he expect to use Simon’s bed, while Simon waited in the other room? That’s just wrong! Would he have… invited the human to join? Raphael can’t help the cold shudder at that idea. He wouldn’t, would he?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He helped me enough, didn’t want to... involve him…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh I don’t think he minds getting involved with you,” he winks playfully. “He was genuinely sad to see you go. But I understand.” he grows serious. “It’s a good instinct to follow, when you want to protect humans from the existence of our kind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael sips slowly, not as desperate as before and he’s not careful letting his disgust show.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t like the taste?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s blood,” he deadpans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus hums thoughtfully and tilts his head. “We could try changing that a little. Do you have a sweet tooth?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael frowns and shrugs. How is that relevant now?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a quick flick of his wrist the warlock makes two more glasses appear on the table, shorter ones and half full with… something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire puts the blood down and eyes the thick liquid in the short glasses. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus grins. “The one on the left has melted chocolate in it, with the blood, so it’s still gonna work for you but the taste should be better. And the other one has nuts in it too, in case it’s more of a texture thing for you. Go ahead, try them,” he encourages eagerly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael can’t tell if he’s fascinated or horrified by the combination of blood and chocolate. In the back of his mind, he’s wondering if there’s something else he could do with blood to make it more edible, but for now, he picks the glass without the nuts in it and swirls it gently, a little wary.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It smells sweeter, and the consistency is already different when it hits his tongue, the sweetness a pleasant distraction from the tang of blood. He shuts his eyes. God, he could get used to this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sets the empty glass on the table with a sigh. “It was good,” he finds himself admitting. He eyes the other glass, then the warlock, but Magnus is just watching him with that soft relaxed smile that makes Raphael look away. It’s too much to have someone look at him like that. He’s not used to that anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly he picks up the blood, chocolate and nuts concoction. It’s pretty much the same, but oh! Oh God! He forgot what it feels like to have something hard to bite into, something that isn’t obscene like a neck, but a food thing, something familiar from </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Something he may know the taste of from home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire feels Magnus’ intense gaze on him and looks down, his cheeks burning more than they have before, thanks to all the blood he just drank. How can something this abhorrent make him feel more human at the same time?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You couldn’t have been a vampire long,” the warlock speculates, with a knowing glint in his eye. “Am I right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugs. “Few months, give or take.” Then he admits petulantly: “was hard to keep track of things at first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry, you don’t have to explain yourself. You did what you could to survive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael tilts his head up, incredulous. “I’m a vampire,” he reiterates as if it may have skipped the warlock’s mind. “My survival means somebody dies,” he sneers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t want to talk about how you got turned or how you actually survived that’s fine, I won't ask, but it’s a good thing that you have survived. I have good instincts about people, and I can't picture you hurting innocents,” he decides with confidence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to burst your bubble but just the other day two people died because of me,” he says; his regret gets drowned by the strange urge to prove the warlock wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was that when you saved Simon’s life, by any chance?” Magnus responds easily, sipping on tea from a delicate blue teacup that the vampire is sure wasn’t there a moment ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Raphael looks down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Trust me, my boy, you’re not nearly half the monster you think yourself to be,” Magnus has that soft thoughtful expression on again, that makes Raphael think he can see right into his soul over the rim of that cup. “I should know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the vampire wants to ask, but is too afraid of the answer. He has no clue what to say instead of that, so he stays quiet, staring intently at the empty glasses as if they could offer inspiration for small talk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the stretching silence he realizes he misses Simon. Maybe after… everything, he could go back to his place. Just for a while, maybe a couple hours, just to curl up next to him…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Raphael?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He blinks at the hand that lands softly on his forearm. It’s gentle but heavy and he mourns how he used to enjoy a grounding touch like this. Now, the vampire can’t help but contemplate all the things that hand could do to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you all right?” Magnus asks in that damn concerned voice of his, and Raphael gulps past the lump in his throat. Damn warlock, making him feel so much and almost believe he can...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He needs...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swallows and shuts his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He needs...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could I take a shower?” Raphael asks the first thing that pops into his head. Lucky. He could absolutely use a shower too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. You can use the en suite in the guest bedroom,” he points in the direction of the polished black door with more flourish than strictly necessary.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gulps at the mention of a bedroom, but tries to convince himself the sooner he goes there, the sooner he can put that behind himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything you need should be there, use whatever you like,” the warlock smiles sweetly and it makes Raphael’s stomach roll. “Clean towels are on the shelf by the door, can’t miss it,” he adds as an afterthought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he mutters and walks away, he stops in front of the door and glances one last time for confirmation and when Magnus gives him an encouraging nod, he steps in, silently praying he’s not followed in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doing his best not to look around too hard in the bedroom, he turns to the only other door there is and goes in, shuts it behind himself, then locks it, just in case. He rests his forehead on the wood, letting out a relieved sigh, his arms hanging loose. He takes a few more slow, controlled breaths and just when he’s almost relaxed, it hits him. The realization knocks the air out of his lungs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus is a warlock. Which means if he really wanted to join Raphael in here, that lock in the door won’t stop him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He steps back with a gasp, as if the door is about to vanish on him right then and there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His breaths grow rapid and shallow, and he tries to stop, tells himself he doesn’t need air as a vampire but it’s not working. The instinct is firmly there and he can’t fight it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Damn, he still wants that shower though!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks around and grabs the first towel he can reach off the shelf; it’s a massive fluffy thing with a geometric pattern, but it doesn’t matter. He puts it close to the shower stall, stealing nervous glances at the door. He looks through the soaps and shower gels, trying to find the least fancy one, and settles on some flowery mix with spices and sandalwood. He likes the scent of sandalwood, he reasons, it will do him good. He opens the bottle and sniffs it, but it doesn’t do a thing to soothe him like he hoped it would.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands are shaking as he takes the jacket off, and struggles to unbutton the shirt without tearing the buttons off in his frustration. He’s not looking at what he’s doing, instead staring at the door and listening intently for the slightest whisper on the other side of it. He licks his lips when the shirt is off and he reaches the belt and the zipper of his pants.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t come in, please don’t come in, please, don’t come in</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he chants in his mind desperately, as he’s tugging the fabric down his legs, before kicking it off along with the shoes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In nothing but his underwear, he turns on the water, letting it warm up. With a deep breath in, he takes the boxer briefs off and tosses them onto the pile with the rest of his things on the floor. He leaves the stall partially open - both as a precaution to hear better, even despite the water noise, and to let the steam out. Even as a human he hated how after the shower the rest of the bathroom was freezing cold the moment he would step out to dry; he never liked it then, and he certainly isn’t going to like it now. He can be careful and wipe off the mess once he’s done, not like he’s in a rush to get out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gulps, and steps under the water spray, one eye still on the door. He breathes in deeply and savors how the warmth is slowly enveloping him, almost like a hug, almost like he could relax into it and close his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except he doesn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cranks the heat up gradually, soaking it up greedily before he even considers reaching for shampoo. He washes the hair twice, digging in his fingertips into the scalp in a rough massaging motion. It’s heavenly. Warm water runs down his face, but he knows it’s not the soapy suds that are making his eyes sting. No matter, it all washes away, as he’s breathing with an open mouth, his shoulders shaking despite the heat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Next he grabs the shower gel. Once he does, he steps out from below the spray and squeezes out a generous dollop onto his palm and gets to vigorous scrubbing himself. He makes an effort not to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>when his hands reach lower. Instead he’s staring at the label, reading ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>bergamot and cardamom’</span>
  </em>
  <span> over and over in his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After rinsing, he soaps himself all over again, just because.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hopes the warlock won’t call him wasteful for leaving the water running while he does it, but he enjoys the steamy air he’s breathing too much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With no way to keep track of the time, he’s moved from throwing fearful glances at the door, back to almost constant staring at it, and after all the filth is washed away with the suds, he realizes he’s tense again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How stupid of him to hope it would last.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cuts the water angrily and towels himself off. But when he steps out onto the tile floor, he’s faced with a dilemma; his clothes are old, dirty and partially burned and he hates the idea of putting them back on just when he got himself clean.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not gonna stay clean that long</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks bitterly about what awaits him on the other side of the door. Should he even bother dressing, or would that be seen as him being eager?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shudders, disgusted by that notion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It would certainly save some time and cut on the apprehension of undressing all over again, but he can’t make himself stay completely naked. He puts on his underwear and wraps the huge towel around himself like a blanket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a final breath in and out he unlocks the door and opens it, fully expecting the warlock to wait for him, splayed casually on the bed covers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael lets out a shaky sigh when he sees the room is actually empty, but the relief is short lived. He’s not here. The vampire gulps thickly - Magnus is probably expecting to be called, playing the gentleman and waiting for Raphael to get ready for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tugs the towel tighter around himself and closes his eyes, fighting to stay composed. A part of him wants to break down, wants to make a scene, only in hopes that the warlock wouldn’t be interested in him anymore, after seeing him in such a state. But...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wouldn’t it be just Raphael’s luck that the warlock would enjoy that, though?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d rather not find out. And more importantly, they had a deal. As revolting as it is, he refuses to weasel out of it when he’s agreed to it and already got healed and fed for it. So he peeks out of the bedroom, and spots Magnus still by the table. He clears his throat to get his attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus smiles at him, so casually it feels like a punch to the gut for a vampire, how far from reality that looks like; as if there were years of familiarity between them. Not a couple hours and a dodgy deal. “You didn’t like the clothes?” He asks, not even getting up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael falters. “Uh, they’re dirty. And singed,” he shrugs. “Didn’t want to put them on yet…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warlock frowns. “No, of course, I meant the clean ones. I left some there by the towels, should be your size. You didn’t like them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clothes?” The vampire blinks, thinking back but he wasn’t really paying attention, was he? “Sorry, I wasn’t, uh, I didn’t notice. You left some for me there? When?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Magic, snowflake,” he grins and waves his hand at him playfully, tiny sparks flying off his finger tips. “When you were going in there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael shuts his eyes, feeling stupid and exposed. He has no clue how this works, not really and he’s certainly not used to interacting with magic in such a casual context.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Magnus says unexpectedly. “I’m not used to people staying here when they don’t know about magic, and I imagine you’re not used to it like I am. Should have said something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nods, but doesn’t address the magic issue. His mind is preoccupied with other things.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he’d be allowed to keep the clean clothes after he leaves, maybe, if he behaves…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swallows past the lump and forces out a smile when he looks up at the warlock. “Are you coming, then?” He’s both proud of himself for keeping his voice light and steady, and sickened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” That sweet expectant expression Magnus is directing at him is too much, and he has to look away, before he stutters an explanation, almost bowed down, and staring at the floor:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just mean, I'm already almost naked, and washed so,” he lets the sentence hang between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael tugs at the towel, just to make sure it’s still in place - as if it's going to protect him and hide his shame! He can just picture the warlock mocking laughter at that childish thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a long hollow silence, all he hears is an incredulous “so?” echoed back at him, and he can feel himself start to tremble. He doesn’t know how to play this… thing. And he doesn’t want to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why can’t anything be simple and easy in his pathetic un-life, just once?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop being coy, okay? I agreed to your terms, I won't fight you,” he rants, angry tears welling up in his eyes despite his best effort, when he utters the mortifying words. “Just please drop the bullshit!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warlock is staring at him, mouth open, as if Raphael is speaking an unknown language. “Fight me?” He shakes his head, like it makes no sense. “Why would you fight me? I’d never… I don’t want to hurt you, Raphael. What are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said, ugh!” Raphael groans, frustrated with himself and the whole situation. “In exchange for healing me and all the blood,” he hates that he’s asked to spell it out in all the nauseating details. “In exchange I’d…” he can’t say it; it would make it real, and his vision is all blurry and his voice wobbles. He shuts his eyes tightly, they sting again.“I’d let you, in exchange you’d have a go with me!” Raphael yells, humiliated and no longer caring that he really shouldn’t be screaming at the warlock. “And I agreed,” he sniffles, looking down at his feet, not daring to look the other man in the face, when his own is burning. “You can fu… fu...ck me,” he stammers pathetically, swallowing his own tears. “And I won’t fight you, okay?” Then, more angrily, but still with gaze planted firmly at the floor, he demands: “why did you make me say that?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He flinches at a loud hollow crack, and when he looks up to see what caused it, he finds a pile of glass shards scattered in a circle on the carpet where a decorative vase previously stood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael gulps and swivels to face the warlock, terrified. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Magnus says quickly, blinking at the vase as if it surprised him just as much. He stands up slowly, with a pained expression that doesn’t make any sense, and keeps apologizing.  But what’s even more confusing, he doesn’t make a single step closer towards the vampire once he’s standing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t,” he waves absentmindedly at the shards and they disappear. “It was just shock, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, I swear,” he insists. “I was just, I promise I’m not angry, I wouldn’t, and I swear I never meant to imply anything like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warlock’s face is twisted and it’s absurd for Raphael to see his own shame and pain reflected there. It’s confusing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had no idea, oh God, I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” the heartbroken expression hits Raphael hard. He’s staring; where is the suave, confident warlock that intimidated him so much?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has to make sure. “So you don’t want to… do </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! No, no,” Magnus shakes his head vehemently. “Not at all, never! I didn’t lie when I said I’d never want to hurt you. Please, I,” he licks his lips nervously. “I get you have no real reason to trust me,” he rolls his eyes and lets out a bitter laugh, “not after something like that. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you want to leave. You’re free to do so, of course. But I need you to know I would never think to take advantage of you. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As strange as it is, he does believe him. “But i don't understand,” he says in a small voice. “What do you want, then?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warlock deflates. “I just want to help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael gasps at the utter defeat and tears shining in his eyes when he says that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy looks so fragile, standing barefoot on the carpet and nothing but underwear peeking out from behind the folds of that massive towel draped over him. Just looking at him is breaking Magnus’ heart into pieces, and to think he contributed to his misery…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warlock could collapse on the floor there and then if he wasn’t worried it would just scare the poor vampire more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I, uh, would you mind…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hates how hesitant the boy is, but what did he expect? A single apology to work miracles and have the vampire’s trust and confidence? Ha!  So in the softest, most gentle voice, Magnus prompts: “what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael glances up briefly, as if checking if he’s hearing correctly and Magnus’ jaw clenches momentarily before he forces his muscles to relax, just in case it’s showing, just in case it comes off as anything directed at the vampire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not. Of course it’s not, but how could he ever begin to explain to someone scared of him like the vampire is, that all the fury bubbling deep inside him is for himself alone; because really, realistically, who else? But the vampire doesn’t know that and there’s no point trying to explain it, to burden him with it; lest Raphael thinks it’s his place to comfort Magnus after this whole disastrous day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could I keep those clothes you left for me in the bathroom?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s itching to envelop the boy in a bone crushing hug, but he can’t. He knows better now, so instead just rubs the fingertips together at his side, and swallows past the lump in his throat. “Yes,” he says, walking a tightrope of gentle and adamant, “absolutely, sno… Raphael,” he bites his tongue at the endearment, just in case. It would come off wrong again, no matter how he really means it. “They’re yours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael bolts to the bathroom, leaving Magnus frozen in place, alone with his thoughts. He’s staring at the now empty spot on the carpet, thinking mournfully how much he’d like to do the same, but there’s no magic that could save him from being alone in his own company. He would have found it by now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thinks back to how they met, trying to pinpoint where it’s gone so terribly wrong. Magnus didn’t really hide how horrified he was by the state Raphael had been in; he tried to touch the boy to comfort him - did the vampire feel threatened already?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or did something happen after… Oh!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus groans at the memory. The deal. All those times Raphael was talking about the terms of the deal and exchange, it made no damn sense to the warlock, but now… Fuck! How could he have said that!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The way the vampire struggled to spell it out for him, how distressed it made him, God! Raphael could barely spit the words out. And he was right to yell at him, Magnus did make him say that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then, as if it wasn’t enough, he scared the boy even worse, when he lost his control and the realization of what’s happening made him crack that damn vase. That pure terror on Raphael’s face is going to plague the warlock’s nightmares for months to come, he knows it will; and he deserves every single one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Damn hundreds of years he’s been around and what does he have to show for it? Is he really no better than that? Is he doomed to repeat the abusive circle, only now it’s him inflicting the hurt?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All he ever wanted was to help the boy. Raphael seemed so touch starved, so hungry for a friend and Magnus saw something of himself in the boy’s naked desperation. And if the warlock hoped to get a bit of company out of it - would that be so bad? He would never want to be selfish with it, but it’s a moot point now. He blew it, he was too much again, too eager, too hopeful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus startles, when he tastes the salt of his tears, unaware he’s been crying all along.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy was terrified of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The worst thing is that he saw it! Raphael never wanted to come home with him, he was clinging to that human so much, he didn’t want to leave him. And Magnus even commented on it, rubbed it in his face that Simon liked him back, oh God!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was just trying to help.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face crumples suddenly. A high-pitched whine escapes his lips, startling him out of the stillness, but he doesn’t allow himself to cry and slams his hands over his mouth to stop any more sounds from coming out. Only when he’s certain he can stay quiet does he move his hands away, and clicks his fingers to clean his face with magic without ruining the make up completely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Day is still young, he has plenty of time to do just that. Later, though; not when the vampire is still in his home. It’s bad enough to scare the boy, no need to manipulate him with tears and guilt him into staying any longer than he wishes to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire doesn’t take long to be back, or at least Magnus doesn’t register it, if he does. He is pleased to see the jeans and t-shirt he left for him fit the boy well at least. They should last him long too, they’re good quality, he made sure of that. However when he conjured the clothes there, Magnus wasn’t thinking much further than something to wear after the shower, indoors specifically, so seeing Raphael in his worn out boots and the stained jacket with partially burned holes on his side, is just a silent reminder of what Magnus has failed to consider. Again. Of course he’d need something to keep him warm outdoors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stupid, stupid warlock!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What good is a t-shirt and a pair of pants, when the vampire is going back to live on the streets? These will be the only clothes Raphael will be wearing for the foreseeable future, all because Magnus hurt him and scared him off too much to stay even for a day. He doesn’t blame him, though, never would. It’s just so unfair that Raphael has to be the one paying for the warlock’s overeager mistake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He makes to go to the vampire, offer to at least mend the jacket, if not give him a new sturdier one outright, but he doesn’t dare follow through and come close. Before he can ask permission, the boy is speaking himself:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, fo- for healing me and giving me blood,” Raphael stammers, looking at anything but the warlock, unease rolling off of him in waves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warlock wonders where he stores all that boundless gratitude. He shouldn’t be thanking him. Not after… and not like this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...and I'm sorry for… misunderstanding you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, good God!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, no, he wants him to stop thanking him, stop apologizing. The boy has it all backwards, but Magnus can’t criticize him. He can’t scream that he’s the one to blame, he’s the one to apologize, he’s the one to...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shuts his eyes and swallows the shame, unable to come up with words that would fit; nothing can properly express the depth of his failure, so he just stays silent, letting Raphael speak, even though it’s all wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he eventually opens his eyes, all he can focus on is the unguarded panic in how the vampire is glancing from the front door to Magnus and back again, looking so utterly trapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You did this to him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Magnus thinks. What must he think of him - that he’ll lash out and beat the boy? It makes him sick to consider; hasn’t he done enough already?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He motions toward the door slowly. “You can go,” he says tentatively, doing all he can to bury the regret. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please, don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “If you want, of course. I won’t stop you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, stay. I can be better</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For an excruciating moment, they stand stock-still, staring at each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Raphael frowns. “Thank you, really,” and with one last searching look at the warlock, he’s gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment the door shuts, Magnus lets out a shuddering breath. This is it, he thinks mournfully. It’s what he does; they were right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A great, violent shudder racks his body and he sobs, no longer minding the noises he’s making.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His legs give under him and he lands gracelessly on the floor, legs bent in front of him and his back bowed forward, his hands flexing hopelessly to grab onto something but all he has is empty air around him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She told him he can’t be trusted to build any lasting relationships.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus gasps at the tightness in his chest, choking on air when he suddenly can’t breathe properly and is glad nobody’s here to witness his pitiful display when he bends further down, almost folding into himself with a whine, his burning wet face hidden between his elbows as he’s tugging at the hair at the back of his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t say goodbye. He just stood there, letting Raphael do all the talking, all the apologizing and thanking, like a fucking…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, his father would be proud, the warlock thinks bitterly; he learned well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except he learned the wrong fucking thing, hasn’t he?! He wanted to help, but what he actually did was absolutely destroy that boy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t mean it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s shaking his head, moaning tearfully, bits and pieces of broken words coming out, barely recognizable to his own ears. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Didn't mean to... didn’t mean it...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t mean to become someone who hurts people; to become his father, God! Was he too late, when he banished Asmodeus and.... was he too late?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Magnus cries harder, keening into his knees. His head is pounding and his own tears are suffocating him but there’s still more flowing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry, Raphael... </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Setting sun bathes the streets in an orange glow, making the windows glitter. The crowds thin out for a short while, between the after work rush clears and the night life enthusiasts come out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael watches, his shoulder propped up against the rough concrete wall in a shadowed alley that leads to the back of a restaurant. It’s secluded enough that nobody pays him any mind, but close enough to smell the frying and the cooking, and just about to hear the low rumble of visitors inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s just a corner away from the warlock’s place; and an hour of a brisk walk away from Simon’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With vampire speed he can cut that in half.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doubts Magnus would ever wish to see him again after that fiasco, but he still makes sure to memorize the location, just in case.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He may have found the kindest man ever, and one who knows what he’s doing and the vampire ruined any possibility of a relationship with him. He cringes at the memory of how he left the warlock, and the hurt rolling off of him, just because Raphael was too wrapped up in his own hurt to actually pay attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus didn’t at any point smell like he was aroused around him!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of the things he always makes sure to note, now that his senses allow it. And Raphael didn’t notice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking up, he notices the first stars twinkling in the sky, a bittersweet reminder of better times, and wonders what might have been, if only he wasn’t so stupid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, Raphael can’t stay away any longer. Or rather, he could - he’s survived longer on rat blood; and that burly jackass, who was about to rape a girl in an alley? He had a lot of blood in him. Since draining him, the vampire’s barely started to feel hunger again a few days ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thing is, he doesn’t want to stay away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For all the times he’s almost come up to Simon’s place, the couple times he made it up to his floor and stopped himself just shy of knocking on his door, Raphael knows he doesn’t deserve to ask for any more kindness from that man. But there’s still greed in his heart; a different kind of hunger, for safety and acceptance that he’s received a glimpse of the last time he’s been here, and he’s ready to beg for more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s been gnawing at his insides for days, not letting him rest, bringing tears to his eyes at odd hours of the night, until he gave in. And so, here he is; just outside Simon’s door, arm raised to knock but still telling himself he should go, he should leave the man to his peaceful clean life in the sun, and not taint him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knocks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s such a quiet noise that he wonders if anyone could hear it inside. Simon could be doing anything inside, he could be in his bedroom, or have headphones on and would have no clue Raphael was even here. Pathetic, he should have made the knock a bit more confident, louder... except no, he really shouldn’t have. What right does he have to demand Simon drop everything and rush to open the door for him. He should leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sniffs, angry with himself but not knowing what to do about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, he hears footsteps on the other side, and the door is flung open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Raphael! I’ve been worried sick for you,” Simon proclaims as if they are best friends already. The familiarity of the greeting startles the vampire. For a briefest of moments, he allows himself to fantasize that he’s not as unwanted as he thought, and he smiles shyly back at the human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” he licks his lips. “I’m sorry,” he hates the idea of the human wasting his time worrying about him, but the sentiment still makes his cold dead heart feel a little fuller in his chest. “I’m fine. You shouldn’t worry, not about me. I’ll be fine.” If he says it enough times to convince Simon, maybe he’ll believe it himself too, when he’s later huddled in the corner between the garbage can and a wall, with an open sewer hole, just waiting for the last moment he can stay topside before the sun reaches him and he has to jump down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” Simon nods, breaking his chant of reassurances. “Would you like to come in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only if I wouldn’t be a bother,” the vampire is quick to say, but he can’t fully get rid of the longing in his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon huffs, but somehow, there’s fondness in his exasperation too, plain to see. “I told you,” the human steps aside, leaving plenty of room for Raphael to enter. “You’re welcome anytime. Come. In,” he repeats with a squint when the vampire takes too long to move.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he comes inside. “Thank you,” he ducks his head. The familiarity of the place tugs at his insides, and makes for a strange sensation when he looks at the sofa that he’s spent so much time on before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not busy, are you?” He looks at the open laptop and a plate of pasta on the table. It smells pretty good, too. He cringes, thinking he probably came at the bad time, but bites his tongue not to ask if he should leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah,” the human waves him off. “Was just about to watch something along with my dinner. But we can just talk, now that I have company,” he grins and guides them both to take a seat. “Up to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael waits for Simon to settle down and thinks how to explain that he doesn’t really feel up for a  conversation, that he’d be happiest to just sit quietly side by side, when he’s the one to bother Simon with a visit in the first place. That… that would be rude, and he shouldn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d offer you some,” he nods at the food, “but I guess you don’t eat solid stuff?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire looks away. “No.” He doesn’t elaborate, not just because he doesn’t want to, but to spare Simon the disgusting details and kill his appetite. At least one of them should get to enjoy their meal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that… a good thing or a bad thing?” Simon gives him a curious look and when Raphael just stares at him, he adds: “I’m no good in the kitchen. I like some things but I suppose it wouldn’t be much of a loss if I couldn’t eat solids. Blood, well,” he huffs again and the vampire has no idea how to interpret the expression that flashes across his face. “Let’s not go </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But anything else, I don’t know. I imagine it would save you on prep time and effort if you only eat one thing all the time? Or does it get boring for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lost for words, Raphael makes a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat and chides himself silently. He came, he interrupted and he made things awkward, all because he can’t be bothered to string a couple sentences together. He’s racking his brain for something to say, when he hears more than sees movement, and Simon settles down deeper into the sofa.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks up just as the cushion dips a bit closer, and sees that Simon is clicking away on the laptop with one hand, while holding the plate up in front of himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not much for talking, huh? That’s fine,” Simon leans back in his seat and points to the screen. “We can just watch it together. It’s called ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>The Good Place’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s about this person who dies and goes to, like, heaven or something, but thinks it’s a mistake and she doesn’t belong. I heard good things about it,” he grins and focuses on the screen, picking up the fork loaded with pasta and some sauce.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fork taps softly on the plate, at a slow pace that gives a rhythm to the quiet noises coming from the speakers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael watches the human eat and stare at the screen, so close that he could just reach out and touch him, and goes over everything in his mind. Simon doesn’t seem upset, and his heartbeat is relaxed as well, so Raphael is willing to trust that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scoots a little closer, carefully, and sinks down a bit, almost folding in on himself and ever so slightly into Simon’s side, paying attention to his reaction and any changes in his posture; but Simon doesn’t move, or flinch or anything that would suggest that he minds their newfound proximity. So Raphael lets out a sigh and focuses on letting go of the tension in his back and shoulders, before he even contemplates looking at the screen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s surprisingly easy to forget everything else, once he’s sucked into the vibrant weirdness of the show.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s lost count of the episodes they’ve watched by the time he hears the human speak again:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will you stay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire blinks in surprise at the sudden question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I could, you know, actually fold out the sofa, so you’d be more comfortable than last time,” Simon muses without moving at all, but when Raphael looks up he is surprised to have Simon’s eye on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d like that,” he admits, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Can I use your shower too?” Raphael tugs at his sleeve nervously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Simon gets up and goes into the corridor that by now the vampire knows leads into the bedroom and the bathroom. What he didn’t notice last time, is that one side has a built in closet that Simon now opens. “Let me grab you a fresh towel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, right. Raphael follows and waits just a few steps to the side. From his vantage point, he can see folded linens, a stack of towels and other fabrics, and when he breathes in, there’s faint scent of fresh laundry, and he has to swallow past the lump in his throat, because last time he remembers smelling anything like that was in his own home, when mama told him to fold out the dried things. Rosa used that as an excuse to try and chase him...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here, will this do?” Simon hands him a towel with an embroidered pattern of chubby penguins at the seams. “If you want, I think there should be a toothbrush behind the mirror, too. Unopened, obviously,” he chuckles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he whispers, still staring at the small penguins in a trance. Slowly, he makes his way to the bathroom and clicks the door closed behind himself. It’s a small space, but the white porcelain against the forest green of the tiles gives it a nice depth. A shower stall and a washing machine are crammed together on one side, the sink and a mirrored shelf hang opposite the entrance and a toilet seat on the other side. By the door there’s a half full mesh basket for dirty clothes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t think to use a lock here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire puts the towel at the edge of the sink and takes off his clothes, carefully and with no rush. His insides aren’t wound up so tight as they used to be last time he had a shower (he commends himself for not thinking too hard on why that was) and besides, a T-shirt has no buttons to fumble with. On top of that, these are new clothes and he wants to take good care of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turns on the warm water and steps under the spray. There are a few bottles of shower gel and shampoo in easy reach inside the stall, so he doesn’t look around for anything else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He closes his eyes, then leans forward against the wall with his forearms, before resting his forehead atop his hands. In that position, the hot water lands squarely on his neck, streaming in rivulets down his body. Raphael lets out a relieved sigh at the sensation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As usual, he doesn’t close the stall door, but there’s plenty of steam to build up and fill the whole bathroom anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When all the remaining tension is drained from his muscles, and he feels just about ready to fall asleep then and there, he picks out the shampoo and proceeds to wash his hair thoroughly. Twice. He swallows deep lungfuls of steamy air and brushes the dripping wet hair out of his face with his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only when he reaches for the soap, does Raphael actually read the label; he huffs out a soft laugh at the strawberry vanilla combination, but doesn’t really mind it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coming out of the bathroom he almost trips on a chair strategically placed just outside the door, where it wasn’t there before. On it, he sees folded sweatpants and a red hoodie and he looks around to find Simon, to ask him about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, sorry,” the human looks sheepish. “I should have said before you went in, but I figured, I don’t know what your plans are, and if and when you’ll be back after you leave… Not that I’m kicking you out! You can stay! But I could maybe wash your things? And these are just temporary for you to wear, if you want, I could find something else but they’re, I mean… they should fit you I think? Unless you don’t want to, then that’s cool too, forget about that…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael looks down, touched by the offer. With a jerky nod, he stammers out a quiet “thank you,” and goes back to the bathroom to change.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ends up staying a few days, doing his best to stay out of the way and be helpful. He doesn’t dare breach the subject of cooking in Simon’s kitchen, but he looks around at his supplies all the same. Short of robbing a corner store for veggies, the vampire has no way to provide anything himself, and he’d hate to put Simon on the spot and have him buy things specifically for Raphael to use. So he doesn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It makes him wonder though, how there’s always a blood bag available for him at least twice a day. When Simon explains how he texts the warlock each time, he doesn’t worry about Magnus holding it over them later, or using it against him; he knows better by now. What keeps worrying Raphael is what his continuing presence will mean for the human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon makes it so easy to forget what Raphael is, when they’re cozy on the sofa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s when he grows too comfortable, too safe in his welcome that he knows he should leave. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Long past midnight, Raphael finds himself in front of the building where Simon lives, staring up into the window. Again. It’s too late for there to be any real traffic, and he tunes out any remaining noises or comments from people that pass him by. It’s also too late in the night for him to go up, but it’s partly why he’s here now; the late hour is enough of a deterrent for him not to disturb the human, but at the same time he allows himself this imitation of closeness when it gets too much to stay away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can’t help it. He tries to stay away for longer stretches of time, just so the human doesn’t get fed up with him constantly coming over, he tries to control himself and just treasure the memories of those little encounters so he can last longer without, but it’s hopeless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s been a couple weeks since he last spoke with the human and was in his home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon is always smiling when he sees him, but there’s a frown there too and he always says he worries and asks after the vampire, as if his well-being mattered to the human, inexplicably; and Raphael is drawn in every time. Even if there was no blood, and he’d have to stay hungry while listening to Simon’s heartbeat (he’s so damn pleased with his restraint), it’s the company he’s craving. It’s the casual touches, soft blanket and softer voice that have him coming back for more, make him almost believe he could have a place to belong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Too preoccupied with those thoughts, he doesn’t pay attention to the slow paced click of heels on the sidewalk, expecting whoever it is to walk past him and ignore him like everybody else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's something nagging at the back of his mind but it’s just out of focus… until the sudden silence jars him out of his stupor and he blinks and looks around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire flinches, even before he consciously recognizes the smell of the perfume and who it belongs to. Suddenly on high alert, he spots a familiar figure in the shadows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s found him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, pet, as much as I enjoy a little game of cat and mouse, I do think it’s time for you to come back home with me,” Camille says, coming languidly into the light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael staggers backwards when she’s close, and swallows thickly. Of course she’d treat it as a game. He ran away but it’s as if the idea doesn’t register with her - or maybe it does, and she just likes to pretend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, just let me be,” for every step she takes towards him, he takes one back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pouts. “Why would I do that? I put a lot of time and effort into raising you, is that how you repay me?” Camille glances up with a smirk. ‘I’ve seen you. Coming back here again and again. To this building.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cold shiver runs up Raphael’s back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” she tuts, tapping a long red nail on her chin. “No, I think you’re a good little boy, and you found me a tasty treat to apologize for abandoning me so suddenly. Haven’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, God!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head minutely, too shocked to respond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” She slithers closer and grabs his forearm before he can retreat further away, her long nails digging into his skin even through the sleeve of his jacket. “He’s a tasty little morsel,” she smirks, right in his face, so close he can feel her breath ghosting over his cheek. His eyes go wide.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Di- did you…?” He stammers, too scared to finish the sentence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Camille chuckles, her gaze roaming his face. “Oh, relax! Gave him a scare earlier tonight but he’s still breathing. But if you haven’t been saving him for me,” she pulls him in roughly, “why haven’t you eaten him yet, pet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael is practically vibrating with tension, he’s so scared; for himself and even more so, for Simon. And he knows that with their bodies almost flush against each other, Camille can tell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to show just how much he cares for him, he knows she’d use it against him, but at the same time, it feels pointless. She knows, she always knows, doesn’t she? Camille used to tell him he’s an open book to her, and she’s certainly proven it before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wishes he could be sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wishes he could go up and check on Simon, if he’s hurt. What did she actually do to him? He’d tell Simon to stay inside and not to let anyone in, because as long as he doesn’t invite her in and himself stays inside, he is safe. If only he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s looking at him with that familiar glint in her eye, that only made Raphael more scared, more uncertain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knows. She doesn’t say anything, just pressing close to him and watching him is enough, and he hates it. All she has to do is look at him and his mind is spiraling in fear. It’s humiliating; what good was running from her, when nothing’s changed and she still has the same effect on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He squints past the wetness in his eyes, wishing he could control himself better. Up this close, there’s no way she’d miss his tears. “Please,” he whines.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Camille sneers. “Please, what, pet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Please stop touching me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Please don’t hurt him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Please don’t laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Please… there’s too many things for him to put into words. He swallows thickly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you forget your words again?” Camille coos, before grabbing his chin in a vice. “This is why you need me. We have to train this out of you again now, don’t we, pet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael jerks away from her, but in the attempt her nails leave long burning marks on his face and he gasps in pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, look what you’ve done to that sweet baby face of yours,” she tuts, tracing the tip of her nail along Raphael’s cheek in a mockery of an affectionate gesture, that only makes his stomach roll more inside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He keeps tugging at his arm, trying to get it out of her grip as well, but she doesn’t let him. “I know what will get your tongue loose,” Camille says suddenly and lets go of his arm, digging her fingers into his throat, all but lifting him off the ground in her rush to pull Raphael along, not paying any mind to his efforts to yank himself free.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It is a lost cause, though, and quickly it dawns on him where she’s dragging him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, no, no, no!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With vampire speed, they stop abruptly at Simon’s door and Camille starts banging her fist on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop!” Raphael jumps in shock and tries to pull her away. “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Getting your boy toy to come out and play, of course.” She says with a playful smile, once she’s satisfied that’s enough of noise and the human should be waking up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head desperately; he knows her games. He doesn’t want Simon subjected to any of that. The only way to diverge her attention is to give her something better, but how can he do anything without exposing how much he cares for that man, and thus adding more fuel to Camille’s cruel amusement?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thinks he may try to make a run for it and as soon as Simon unlocks the door, Raphael can speed inside and lock them in, and explain that under no circumstances should Simon invite the other vampire in. Hardly a foolproof plan, but it’s all he’s got, when he hears the footsteps inside and the tell tale clicks of the locks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment the door starts opening and he’s about to move, Camille pulls him from behind into something that, if anyone else was involved, he’d call it a hug; except it doesn’t feel anything like a hug should. More like a noose around his whole body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In other circumstances, Raphael would find it endearing how groggy and sleep tousled Simon looks in his Superman pj’s and with messy hair, and how long it takes his brain to work out who’s at the door. However these are not other circumstances and the slow recognition that leads to an easy smile directed at him, feels like a boulder pressing onto Raphael’s chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He loves that smile, it’s soft and crooked and it’s hard not to smile back when he’s at the receiving end of it, but what chills him to the bone is that Camille sees it too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Raphael?” The human asks, his voice thick with sleep. “What…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do not invite her in,” Raphael interrupts, his voice strangely firm. “No matter what, do not!” At the tip of his tongue he has ‘go back to bed’ and ‘ignore’ and other instructions, but Simon gets this alarmed expression on his face, and is just about to step outside the threshold...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stay </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Raphael orders, but there’s no time to feel guilty for it, as long as Simon stays put.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tuts. “Did you already forget all the fun we had with humans? I can make them do whatever I please...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, God!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not the mind control. Not on Simon. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please, please, don’t encanto him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He shakes his head with a whine but dares not step away from her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Camille’s grip on him is relaxed, but he knows better, especially when her nails trace almost playfully along his arm, making him shudder all the more, and up to his shoulder, until they wrap loosely around his throat again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He understands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on, Raphael? Who’s she?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is my pet having fuzzy feelings about a human?” She huffs into his ear, scraping at his neck, as if reminding him where her hand is. “Is that why you haven’t drained him? Hmmmmm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael is trembling all over, staring at his human, begging him to stay away with his eyes (and probably failing), then shutting them close against the sensation of Camille’s rubbing her hips against him. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out again, and he groans in frustration.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You like that now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he winces but can’t get his voice to cooperate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Last time you couldn’t even get it up for me, pet,” she reminds him gleefully, and all he can do is keep his eyes shut and silently beg her to stop. Not that she’d ever listen, even if he screamed it at her. “Did the human teach you tricks I couldn’t?” Camille asks, a little surprised but mostly just malicious, as she tightens her hold around his throat. He gasps, before he can remember he doesn't really need air to survive, it’s just a leftover instinct from being human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dammit! Let him go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears Simon yell at her, and braces for what’s to come; all it does to protest is to get Camille more riled up. That’s why he’s trying to remain still, despite the shivers racking his whole body and the overwhelming disgust washing over him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you finally learn how to use it?” She croons, then grabs a fistful of his crotch, roughly and shamelessly, and Raphael shrinks back, before he can properly process what he’s doing. He bites down at the pathetic whimper, when instead of getting away from her touch, he slams back against her, and her hand stays in place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N-no,” Raphael whines, hot tears rolling down his face and he’s trashing, trapped between her grip on his throat and crotch, and a solid body flush against his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s gonna be okay,” Raphael hears the human say, but he’s too distressed to process it quick enough. “I’ll call Magnus!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not enough to humiliate him like that, she had to do that in front of Simon, didn’t she?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You met my Magnus, pet?” Camille asks him smoothly, and Raphael vaguely wonders at the new levels of fear that inspires; he didn’t think he could be any more petrified. And yet. "Alright, call him," she dares, even though Simon is nowhere to be seen and probably can’t hear her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can just about make out the swirling vortex of a growing portal deep in the living room, torn between hope and resignation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s going to make things worse, isn’t it? Camille seems to know the warlock, and whatever the context, it’s bound to be better than what Raphael accused him of when they met, right? Not to mention, Camille has a way with words, she could convince Magnus to side with her even before Raphael manages to string a sentence together; and that’s all without taking into the account the simple fact that a powerful ally is better than an underfed one. Raphael has no clue about downworlder politics, not really, but that is something obvious, no matter the species.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus is going to take </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least he may be able to persuade her to spare Simon; the warlock was quite insistent on leaving the human out of their dealings last time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Staring into the portal, he’s slammed face first into the wall, before pain explodes in his right forearm and he screams. Finally free of the groping hands he turns and cradles his arm to his chest, once more gasping for air he doesn’t need. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Magnus, honey,” Camille greets the warlock with that too sweet smile of hers, the one Raphael can’t help but scowl at, thinking of all the times he’s seen it and how fake it is. It has to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can’t see Magnus yet from his spot by the wall, but he can certainly feel his presence. That time when Simon brought him in, and it was almost like static was running in the air, is nothing compared to what Raphael feels now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you think you’re doing, Camille?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, he knows that tone, even if he never actually had an occasion to hear the warlock use it. It’s cold and it makes Raphael tremble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Magnus, I don’t know what that child told you, but I’m just picking up what’s mine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael grits his teeth when he hears that, then does a double take when Camille takes a step back. He blinks. Why would she need to... is she... ?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can’t wrap his mind around the idea that Camille could be just as scared of Magnus as he is. He has to be reading the situation wrong. There’s no way...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you be surprised, if I was more inclined to believe the human on this?” The warlock steps into the corridor, his voice deceptively calm and almost quiet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be like that,” she says, but it gets her no reaction, so she steps forward instead and keeps talking: “You never give me the benefit of the doubt, it’s always everybody else with you. Why won’t you believe me? I’m trying to do the right thing. You know how unstable young vampires can get, all I want is to keep him,” she points angrily at Raphael, “off the streets so he doesn’t attack at random like a rabid dog.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael cringes and looks between the two of them. His breath catches, when the warlock spares him a glance, but his focus is firmly on the older vampire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I trust him with human lives more than I do you, Camille. You should know that by now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He does? Raphael stares, utterly unprepared for such a sentiment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And, it seems, Camille is also taken aback. She is about to say something, but Raphael’s attention is grabbed by a harsh whisper of his name coming from inside the flat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon is squatting just by the door, blessedly still inside, and motions for the vampire to come to him. After a nervous glance at the other two people, Raphael decides to risk it and scoots carefully along the wall, while still making an effort to listen to the proceedings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...left me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Magnus says, curtly, and Raphael wonders just how can a single, barely audible word carry so much weight? “He’s not yours to take. Neither of them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Camille sneers. “You always liked to ruin it for me, even when it didn’t concern you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After all I’ve done for you, this is how you thank me? You told me to get the fuck out! So I did. What I did after, that is none of your business, and yet here you are trying to take him away from me too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael makes it to the door, where he freezes in place, thrown by the realization that Camille and Magnus… were together?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh God!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon’s grip on his shoulder barely registers as he attempts to drag the vampire inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing makes sense anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, work with me here,” Simon grumbles and it’s enough to snap the vampire out and push them together through the door. “Can you stand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks down at himself, taking stock. “Yeah, I uh, yeah,” he gets up, careful not to use his right arm to prop himself up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Simon mutters and practically shoves a blood bag into Raphael’s face, while at the same time trying to guide them to the familiar sofa. “Here, drink.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He blinks down at the blood bag, noting absently that his hand is shaking, then up at the human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Magnus gave me some, in case you needed,” Simon nods to the blood, as if reading his mind. “Is your arm broken? You really should drink it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael hums, not sure which part he’s responding to, his mind is swimming and he can’t even start to make sense of it all, so he just bites down on the bag. The taste is still just as nasty, but there’s no denying that it helps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the first time this evening, he feels collected enough to look Simon over. Camille said she did something. “Did she hurt you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Simon frowns. “Me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael nods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should be asking you that,” he shakes his head. “She didn’t even touch me, I was inside, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But, uh…” the vampire thinks back to what Camille said outside earlier. She did, didn’t she? Did he fuck it up again and misunderstood? Or did she just lie?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Raphael?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks up, startled, even though the human is speaking barely above a whisper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never saw her in my life. I swear. If she said something, she lied.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes sting again and he leans forward, trying to hide his face without outright turning his back on the human. He shouldn’t be surprised at this point, really shouldn’t, but he can’t stop the shame rising up and choking him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even from a distance she keeps playing him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s sneaking worried glances out the door, but Simon diverts his attention again. “She’s not coming in, don’t worry. Magnus will sort it out,” he says with easy confidence, but Raphael doesn’t have it in him to argue the point. He drains the bag and remains silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not much later, they start when the door shuts and they both look at the warlock wide eyed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised the cops aren’t here yet with all that noise going on,” Magnus comments so casually it’s jarring so soon after what they’ve all been through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah,” Simon waves him off. “I have nice neighbors. They know cops would only make things worse,” he shrugs. “I’m just glad nobody came out to help on their own.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Camille?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warlock’s easy manner melts the moment the question is uttered, and he gives them a stony look. “Dealt with.” He takes a measured breath in, and walks over quickly and stops in front of Raphael.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can heal that arm, if you’d let me,” he offers, his voice kind but not looking at the vampire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael thinks he should say something. Magnus is stiff and curt and it screams anger, at least in Raphael’s mind, but then again he does have extensive experience with that emotion directed at him. Maybe he should apologize, if only he knew what for, specifically. He wants to ask more questions, but at a loss for words, he simply extends his arm with a quiet nod, mulling over everything in his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magic washes over him, and for a fleeting second, Raphael thinks the warlock can’t be too angry if his magic is so soothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he opens his eyes again, it’s just in time to see Magnus drop down to one knee next to him, and a small, almost hysterical part of his brain wonders at the familiarity of this happening to him yet again. What is he doing?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so, so sorry, Raphael.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wait, what?</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnus is looking up at him with such profound sadness, the vampire doesn’t know what to do with it. Is it about earlier?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you… Uh, what?” He frowns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's all my fault she turned you and hurt you. Had I stayed with her, she wouldn’t have…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Simon jumps up, interrupting the warlock with an incredulous shout. “What the hell?! What bullshit is that, </span>
  <em>
    <span>if you stayed</span>
  </em>
  <span>?! You </span>
  <em>
    <span>dated her</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magnus has an unreadable expression on his face, but is suddenly blinking a lot, and Raphael isn’t sure if he’s more startled by Simon’s outburst or the warlock’s quiet reaction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were with her?” The vampire presses, though more gently. He can’t fathom why anyone would be with Camille, but then, a small sinister part of him thinks maybe that was on him? Could she be different with other people?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swallows with some difficulty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, uh, I was,” the warlock admits but it looks pained, as if saying that is difficult, and glances up at Raphael. “God, what must you think of me,” he shakes his head with a self deprecating huff.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael frowns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She wasn’t… uh, she was different when we met. Or seemed to be,” he inclined his head contemplatively. “At the time I wasn’t aware of a lot of things,” Magnus admits with a sad, distant look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire reaches out and ever so slowly grabs Magnus’ sleeve between his fingertips, in lieu of offering comfort when he’s not up for direct touch yet, not so soon after </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The strange thing about it is the warlock doesn't comment on it, just stares at Raphael’s hand before giving him that soft smile, the one that makes something melt deep down in Raphael’s chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t realize how bad it was until it really went downhill, and at that point I couldn’t stop noticing… and we eventually broke up. I didn’t think, I should have known she’d…” Magnus swallows the words and looks at the vampire. “That’s what I mean it was my fault.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s something seriously wrong with that logic, Raphael thinks, and he’s about to shake his head, just as soon as he can come up with the words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit,” comes a firm response from the human, that seemingly they both forgot was there. They turn to him expectantly, and he stares at each of them incredulously. “You do realize that’s bullshit, right?” Not waiting for a reaction he goes on a rant that sounds at the very least irritated: “She’s a fucking piece of work, and you should be glad to get away, both of you! And how can it be your fault, huh? Seriously, she seemed perfectly in control of what she wanted to do,” he scowls while waving in the direction of the corridor and Raphael flinches at the casual reminder, which in turn makes Simon duck his head with a quiet “sorry”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But the point still stands,” the human continues. “Her actions are her own, and neither of you are responsible for whatever she’s done. It makes me sick she’s out there, but that’s not on either of you. So stop apologizing!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You make a great point, Simon,” the warlock says and Raphael nods, feeling chastised but still in agreement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you think so,” Simon gives them a lopsided grin. “Now, it’s the middle of the night, I don’t know what we’re still doing up. You can stay the night, but I only have one fold out couch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I think I should go to my own bed, thank you,” Magnus laughs, then turns to the vampire who’s still clutching his sleeve. “Do you need anything before I leave?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael gulps. He mouths a thank you and tries to convey his gratitude in his expression, and he must be doing a pretty good job for the warlock to smile again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, snowflake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A portal opens a few steps from Magnus and before he steps through, he nods at Simon. It’s over in less than a couple minutes and the sudden silence is echoing in Raphael’s ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s been sitting on that sofa since the warlock left, staring into the distance, at a loss what to do with himself now. Soft footsteps and a rustling of fabric startle him out of his stupor and he flinches, before he sees it‘s Simon, sitting down on the other end of the sofa, and Raphael looks away, ashamed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From the corner of his eye he’s watching the human add sugar to the tea and stir it, making soft clicking sounds with the spoon against the porcelain for what he’s certain is longer than strictly necessary. Simon is staring blankly into the mug, and Raphael worries about him, and how he’s going to deal with the fallout. Will the human have nightmares about them? About him? Will he be afraid to leave his home at night?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He licks his lips and turns slightly, but doesn’t actually reach out more than to rest his hand on the cushion between them, scratching at the fabric with his finger nervously. He wants to get closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wishes he could ask the human to hold him like he did that first time, to rest his head on his lap and have Simon’s fingers comb through his hair again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael looks down ruefully, before his stare can be noticed. He bites his lip, chiding himself for wanting such things, when Simon is probably considering how to let him down gently and let Raphael know he shouldn’t come back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His presence brought danger to Simon’s home, but as much as he hates himself for it, the vampire can’t make himself regret spending time with the human.Time spent at his home has been the best in Raphael’s grim un-life and now matter what, he’s going to treasure the memories.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Glancing up, he realizes the human is watching him, and he looks away as if Simon’s gaze burned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Simon asks barely over a whisper, forcing the vampire to lift his gaze in confusion. The human seems so sad, Raphael wants to apologize again, but he was told, wasn’t he? Stop apologizing. So he won’t, no matter how much he wants to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Simon lifts his arm out towards him and he can’t help the flinch. His face crumples when he notices the human’s hurt expression, but doesn’t know what to do, other than to glare down at his hands and sit still like a statue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit, sorry,” the man says quickly and drops his arm. “I didn’t mean… you don’t have to, if you don’t want to, I just, uh, I just thought…” He falters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael waits with bated breath. What did he think?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, uh, just wanted to hold you,” he says awkwardly. “But it’s ok, I get…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire perks up at that and before Simon can back away verbally any more, he interrupts him with “no! I,” he gulps, then nods hesitantly. “I’d like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Simon nudges closer a bit, encouraged, and Raphael leans into Simon’s side, gingerly at first but then the human pulls him in closer with the arm flung over Raphael’s shoulders. “This okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire nods against Simon’s warm, firm body, resting his cheek on his shoulder, almost burrowing into this strange sideway hug with a contented sigh. Simon shifts a fraction, and just when Raphael thinks it couldn’t get any better, he feels a hand land softly at the nape of his neck, scratching softly at his hairline.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He closes his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stillness, the calm thumping rhythm of Simon’s heartbeat and their breathing, he smells the tea on the table, bit of a sweat on the human but he’d sweat too if he could when he saw Camille; there’s the warmth of the arm wrapped around him, the soft fabric under his cheek</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But best of all, there is no scent of arousal coming off the human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You always leave so soon, but you don’t have to,” Simon says suddenly, putting his chin on the top of the vampire’s head. “Stay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raphael starts at that. He waits, but the silence stretches between them and he is lost. “You want… after what just… you still want me to stay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t your fault,” he shakes his head slightly and pulls him in closer, as if to make a point.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>
      <b>EPILOGUE</b>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can you make the bathroom green?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raphael huffs at the memory of just hours ago, when Magnus asked for his preferences. It was surreal, and at first the vampire couldn’t come up with a single thing he liked. Then, naturally, he argued that it’s more than enough that the warlock is giving him a room, without Raphael being a brat and whining about wrong shade on the walls. Magnus, bless him, insisted that since he is in fact creating the space out of thin air with magic, specifically for him, he might as well do it in a way that Raphael will enjoy it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So amid a lot of blinking, smiling and frowning at the floor, the vampire admitted he enjoys dark wood with the grain visible, sharp angles and contrasting colors, and would like the bathroom to remind him of Simon’s.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t actually say the last thing, but that was his inspiration nonetheless, and now he’s glad he asked for all of it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The room has no window, which is just as well, considering; but it leaves extra space on the wall where a window would usually be included. For now the walls are bare, save for a clock hanging just next to the ensuite.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He’s sitting on the bed, contemplating the dark cherry wood that matches the dresser, bookcase and the massive built in closet. With grain visible. He’s rubbing his thumb over the bedpost, the irregular rough lines that still come through the polish pull at his skin as he touches them, almost reverently.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It’s all sleek and elegant and so beautiful. He sniffs, the lump in his throat back again, and he tells himself it’s okay, that he doesn’t have to hide how he feels now, because Magnus promised he wouldn’t come in unless explicitly invited, and the door is closed so even if he cries like a baby there’s nobody here to see it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And part of him wants to; if only because he wants to revel in how absurdly happy and safe he’s feeling, and yeah there’s a lump in his throat and his eyes sting, but this is a good lump. Happy tears.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The empty bookcase somehow is making Raphael most excited; that and the shower, then the bed. Yes, in that order. He doesn’t care if it’s silly, and he’s the only one in the world to sob at the prospect of filling up a bookcase, because his heart is just about ready to burst with joy.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A soft knock starts him out of his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Taken off guard, Raphael jumps off the bed. “Moment,” he croaks out, wiping his face hurriedly. Shit. Magnus is going to come in and see him cry, and take it the wrong way! Shit! He was so stupid...</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>In his rattled state it takes him a while to realize Magnus isn’t opening the door.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raphael stays silent, staring at the door and holding his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Just letting you know there’s blood in the fridge if you want,” he says from the other side of the still very firmly closed door.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The vampire swallows.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” The voice is muffled a bit, but there’s no mistaking the soft tone.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ye-yeah, uh,” Raphael stammers, then makes a decision. “You can come in.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a stretch of silence, when nothing happens and he wonders if the warlock didn’t hear him, or if maybe he meant he would never enter his room, invited or not…</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>...and then a click, and smoothly the door swings open.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Raphael?” The warlock is standing in place, barely one foot inside, giving him a questioning look.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m alright,” he says, this time with more confidence.”Happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Magnus smiles. “That’s good.” Then, after a beat: “I cleared my schedule for tomorrow evening, I mean, I assume you’re nocturnal so,” he shrugs and Raphael nods. “Yeah, so I’ll be here in case you need anything while you’re getting acclimated to the place. But you’re welcome to explore on your own, and, like I said, there’s blood in the fridge and you can experiment with it. The only place I don’t want you to go in alone is my apothecary. I can show you around, but I have a lot of potentially dangerous items there…”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raphael nods again. “I understand,” he adds, when he notices just how apologetic Magnus looks.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They share a shy smile, before the warlock sags a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We should work on filling out that closet, now that you have one,” the warlock points toward the closet on his left. “What do you think, snowflake?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raphael starts at the idea. It’s true, he can’t wear the one set of clothes for the rest of his un-life, but to have that spelled out so openly takes him by surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No rush, of course,” Magnus assures and there’s that part deep in Raphael, the one that holds on to every bad memory, that wants to cringe; how could he ever mistake that calm confidence and kind patience for anything malicious?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I got a few places I’d like to show you, if you’d like,” he says with a fond, distant expression. “A vampire run store in Tokyo, they have everything from fashion to cosmetics, and then some. Or maybe that shop in Boston, what was it… fox… something with a fox in the name,” he waves that thought away with his hand, and chuckles. “Assuming it still exists, I haven’t been there in years. Or, I suppose Patrick would be amenable to a house call,” Magnus taps a finger on his lip. “He’s a vampire too, and a great tailor! Oh, I think you’d love him!” He smiles again. “But like I said, no hurry.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raphael nods, drawn in by the descriptions. He’d like that.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Then he shoots an apprehensive look at Magnus. “Sorry, uh,” he bites his lip. He should get it out there, sooner than later. “Speaking’s hard… sometimes. It’s not… it’s not you or... “ This time he does cringe. “It’s just hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He breathes out. Okay.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t want to put you out, with the clothes, I mean… you've already…”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“None of that,” he holds up his finger, cutting the vampire off. “For all intents and purposes I am adopting you, snowflake. Accept it. No room for guilt here. Just think what style and fabrics you want,” he grins and waggles his eyebrows playfully.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Between Magnus’ words and his apparent excitement, the vampire is stuck staring, that warm sensation spreading inside his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean that?” He asks quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Every word,” he gives him a warm smile.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raphael believes him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>there is nothing sexual happening between rapha and magnus, or rapha and simon, their interactions are platonic and consensual (tho there is a lot of misunderstanding and assumptions at first that lead to a lot of HURT)</p><p>the bad things are either mentioned as they happened in the past, and/or involve camille - groping is in the present and shown, implied camille raping raphael in the past and NOT SHOWN so while it is mentioned it never actually 'happens on camera'</p><p>no actual vomit, just worrying / speculation that it could happen</p></blockquote></div></div>
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